


I can do better.

by AuthorInDistress



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Based on a scene in the comics, F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:25:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3372845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorInDistress/pseuds/AuthorInDistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>.<br/>"Does that Bravado work where you're from?"<br/>"Almost every time."<br/>"You have to do better out here."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can do better.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DirectorShellhead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirectorShellhead/gifts).



> So in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.3 #4, Tony Stark and Gamora have sex. This is a gift to directorshellhead who planted this idea in my head of _how_ they do through tumblr ;) 
> 
> Also this is the first time I'm writing 616 and Gamora, so apologies for any mischaracterisation :)

.

* * *

.

As someone who's probably frequented every bar in New York, the atmosphere here was decidedly odd. Or maybe it's just the undersuit that he's wearing, or the fact that compared to the tech around him, he felt alarmingly inadequate. Which - for him - is not a nice feeling at all. It's also why he always tones up the flirting whenever he feels it itching over him, because tech might be something that he's not quite _space-level_ on yet, but _sex_ is what he definitely should be.

Rocket's sarcasm washes over him, just slightly as he _does_ still comment on it, can't resist really - but it's Gamora's reactions that he's really focusing on. Her fighting form on the ships really was amazing, especially against the Spartax soldiers (or guards) from before, and ... well. He's always had the habit of noticing those little things about those he finds attractive, and she's ringing all the bells right now. The added bonus that she's a notch on his bucket list doesn't even hurt either, and he turns his smile to her when she points out his obvious boasting immediately.

"Does that bravado work where you're from?" Her drink's held almost delicately, like she couldn't crush it in her fist so easily. He has to admire that, that simple touch that shows a person rather than a weapon. Speaks volumes about her, actually.

"Almost every time," He grins, aware he's beaming and practically begging for it, and not even caring in the least. The drink that he'd been given has filled every pore on his body with a warm, tingle of a feeling and Groot's happiness at being the man-of-the-hour is almost contagious. He doesn't even blink when she tells him to do better,

"I can do better."

And that's how he ends up being pulled to his feet and led out, back to their ship.

Rocket hollers over them but he doesn't catch the words, only the tone, and gestures back just as rudely; feeling a pleasant jolt when Quill barks out a laugh - being the only one in the group that probably understands what he'd just done, anyway.

"So. Your place or mine?" He jokes on the way there, never one to keep his mouth shut when he knows he's about to get lucky. Gamora's smirk is the only answer he gets, but as it'd been the one that he'd been looking for, he keeps filling that buzz inside him until he's the one leaning forward and kissing her first. She lets him, hands on his shoulders, of similar height and enough muscle to pin him to the door that they'd just heard slide shut behind them.

She's smooth with taking the undersuit off, which maybe he should be the slightest bit worried about, but right now there's only the one thing on his mind so it won't matter until later. Instead he sits on the edge of the bed to help her finish pulling it down and off. She takes her own off in front of him then, not bothering to make a show of it at all but he still sits back and watches, breathing heavily already in anticipation, "So, uh." He kicks aside the undersuit when his feet tangle in it, not really sure where he should keep his eyes, "How do you want to do this?"

Her smirk hasn't died down, not at all really, and she leans over him; hands on either side until he's bending backward to meet her gaze, "I've an idea. I was planning on going easy on you, but," She flicks her eyes over his collarbone, lips, and hair, "You said you could do better than those out there."

Right. He raises an eyebrow, "Meaning?" Her eyes then slide to the left, and as they're in her room he figures that she has ' _supplies'_ or whatever, so he complies and opens the drawer that she's referring to, leaving it open when he sees what's inside.

"... oh. Uh." He clears his throat, looking back up at her, his arms holding him up as he braces them over the bed.

She still has her bra on and the color matches nicely with her skin, "Not to your tastes?"

He scowls a little, before realising what he's doing and painting back on a smile, "You wouldn't be the first to, so sorry to disappoint."

She just smirks. Again. "I was hoping I wouldn't be actually. But if it isn't to your tastes ... ?" Her tone suggests a little reverse psychology, but the expression on her face, and just a _hint_ of hesitation shows what else she's saying through the teasing. He mulls it over, remembering the last time someone had done this with him. It had been slow, about his reactions more than hers really, and he'd only agreed because _she_ had for an experiment of his own before too. It had only been fair and he'd been more than a little curious too. Prostate massages are apparently incredible.

"Sure," He shrugs, clearing his throat and glancing at the strap-on (is that what they call it in space? Probably best not to say it aloud in case he's mocked. Strap-on _does_ sound poorly named), worrying over his bottom lip, "Have at it."

Gamora hesitates again, only a little, but she must see the open curiosity on his face because she reaches for it immediately afterward, clipping it on while still straddling him, "You may want to get comfortable."

"Right." Stop it. He rolls his eyes at himself, his own statement of being better coming back to bite him in the ass. He's only done this the once before, he's not an expert, but still. He can make it good, "You need any help?" She gives him a look, sliding something into her from the front before snapping the clip shut, "Only trying to be helpful."

"Just spread your legs and lie back, Stark." Okay. Wow.

"We should really go with Tony, you know. If we're doing this." Her hair is flipped over her shoulder as she works something warm and oily between her fingers, looking at him from where she's crouched between his legs now, "Yeah, you're right. I should shut up."

"I wondered how long it would take," He tenses as soon as the tip of her forefinger goes remotely near him, and she frowns, pausing, "I did ask - "

"Yeah, no, I'm good." He grits his teeth at how he sounds, but honestly? Curious he is, he also feels a little out of his depth, "Just give me a second. One." Instead of answering, she elects to ignore him and adjust the strap instead, tightening it and covering it in that same oil. Tony looks up at the ceiling, breathing in slowly, uncurling his toes. As soon as he's a little more relaxed, Gamora pushes the finger in, with a glance from him before to give the go ahead. She stops at the knuckle, smiling at the grimace that must be on his face.

"When did you do this before? How long ago?"

"Uh, about a year, give or take?" She raises her eyebrows, pulling the finger back out to the tip. He twitches at how that feels, remembering his time before. Starts with discomfort, ends with _yes_. Keep that mantra up. "Yeah, I'm not clay. Stretch me up, I'll just go back again." Pushing it back in, she only hums, twisting and repeating until she thinks it's time for another.

Tony squirms, a bite of annoyance rising when he thinks back to his mini daydreams about doing this to Gamora instead, and he tries to stop, but at the third finger it just becomes second nature and he has to chew on the inside of his cheeks to not embarrass himself further. Whether she hasn't noticed his squirming at all anyway, or just doesn't comment for his sake, Gamora focuses only on stretching him and he finds comfort in that.

"That - line about being better," She twists again, holding his thighs down when he tries to automatically slam them together, "You just fed me that to stroke my ego didn't you."

"You seemed to enjoy doing that yourself," She pulls out completely now, and he sags, one hand curled in the sheets by his hip, "I only reminded you."

Foot in mouth. This isn't what he'd had in mind, but he is glad he hadn't turned the offer down right away, especially when he feels her start to actually push the strap-on in instead. His lips part on instinct when she cocks her hips, her muscles rolling as she shifts closer, still holding his thighs though she lifts them now, her grip firm. She could break them in one strike, he guesses, and for some reason that's the hottest thing about this all.

"Last chance." She gasps, her eyes dark and narrowed. It takes a second for Tony to catch onto what she's saying and he reaches down to cup her ass in answer, squeezing. Her eyes widen at that, and she glares, rocking forward a little too rough just to make him gasp, "Lie back and hold the sheets."

Tony opens his mouth to remind her of how he's supposed to be better, and how he can't if he's passive, until he realises that that's probably what she'd meant. He glares back then and her grin is as sharp as the next rock into him, completely inside now and waiting until he gets used to it.

It's - weird. To say the least. He can feel a throbbing around it, in time with his heartbeat, and he feels warm; a burning inside him that's still mixed with discomfort. She lets his legs go then, fisting her hands into the pillow by his head and catching stray strands of his hair as she starts to finally _thrust_ now. The pricks of pain in his scalp that that causes is nothing compared to the rest of him, and he groans, his fingers starting to ache as he clutches the sheets hard enough to whiten the knuckles.

It's only a while later that he actually starts to feel something other than a mildly unpleasant burning sensation, and he moans without thinking, "Oh - _God_." Gamora's hair falls over her eyes, her teeth bared as the strap works on her alongside, and _fuck_ is that hot. He arches his back, again on instinct, but one of her hands releases the pillow to push him back down, pulling out without warning to roll him onto his front instead. It's so abrupt that he doesn't even know how to react other than following her movements and letting her position him on his hands and knees. "Ah - "

He struggles to hold himself up and either she notices or just wants a good hand-hold because her hands find his shoulders and she uses them to force her thrusts in deeper and to hold him up; straightening her back and panting just above his lower back. He bends his, lowering his head between his arms and wincing when he hears the bed actually squeak in synchronisation with their bodies.

This is so -

His hands slip in the sheets and he falls, his lower half held up by her hands on his hips now, but it's like he doesn't even matter anymore because she just keeps going. And - _o_ _w._ But in _such_ a good way. Seriously.

Her nails dig into his skin, crescents marking themselves there, and she pushes him into the mattress as she goes, moaning herself now in short, short, bursts.

His hair is pulled to lift his head up enough to breathe, which he is more than thankful for, and he braces himself on his arms, chewing on the pillow to muffle all the sounds that he's making because she is really going on at a - _holy shit._ His eyes squeeze shut on their own accord and he shakes, grunting into the material bunched in his mouth.

Her hips start to roll a little more, scoops instead of slamming into him, and when she jerks and stifles a cry? Moan? behind her teeth, he guesses that that's her done. Or - not - because right after she recovers, she gets going all over again. Tony can't quite reach himself like this, his hands trapped under his chin, but the friction from the sheets seems to be doing the trick enough anyway, though he refuses to actually grind against them like an animal.

Gamora, so obviously used to this, pushes him down all the more to make it easier, and he actually _keens_ at the contact. He hopes that she hadn't heard it at least, but several more follow when he feels the need to come arising so that's out too. Her hands move from his hips to his neck and she rolls again, urging them both, pushing in deeper and slower until Tony finally feels himself coming with a cry. It sticks to his legs when the sheets become covered with it, spreading over his skin when Gamora continues just to ride them both out.

She stays in him for a while then, resting over his back as he pants into the pillow, before finally climbing off of him and unclipping the straps with one hand; the other swiping her hair from her face, "Mm. Not - the best," He pushes himself up with a hiss, rolling onto his back again and bunching the blankets over him to cover the come. Gamora lies beside him, briefs back on and her arms behind her head, "But you do make much sweeter noises."

Okay then. He doesn't flush but still, the shock of the experience catches up with him and he just ends up gaping at the ceiling. His mouth is dry, his legs throbbing, and he's sure that there are scratches over his shoulders that he's only starting to feel now. But right now, to what she'd said, he honestly can't think of a single word to say.

Gamora hums beside him again, stretched out and relaxing. Tony glances at her, his hands holding the blankets over his waist, but still. Nothing comes to mind.

"So," She looks at him, back to her usual self, "I'm going to go back to the bar."

Tony clears his throat, trying to smile to bring back any semblance of his boasting self from before, but he's still focusing more on what had happened that what she must be thinking now, and any innuendos fall flat in his head, "Yeah, okay." He settles on instead.

She leaves him then, dropping the strap-on in the drawer where she'll probably clean it later, and he watches her go with that irritating feeling of embarrassment returning tenfold. Ugh. He presses a fist to his forehead, feeling more like a ditched prom-date than someone who'd just gotten an extra notch in his bucket list, "Ow."

He sits up with effort, groaning, and takes a moment to recover. Sex is not space-level yet, clearly. It had been good though, really good, but probably not something that he'll do again. At least, not with Gamora anyway. Someone from Earth would be a lot better suited if he ever did, and speaking of which.

He glances down at the 'phone' that Rocket had given him, alongside his discarded undersuit, and bends to get dressed.

He needs to call someone.

.


End file.
